Sunray Kisses
by Balviet123
Summary: A crack GreecexPoland pairing.  Super fluff, rated T for sexy times.  Written by request.


The sun was bright; warm and inviting to the brunette man. A small smile on his face, he stretched and lay back on his back, closing his eyes to avoid the harmful glare of the sun. The giant orb in the sky was gorgeous, but Herakles was informed enough to know and recall that the gorgeous star could burn out his eyes if he weren't careful.

Even behind the dark veil of his eyelids, Herakles could see the sun's light, revealing thousands of blood vessels in said flaps of skin that worked to keep his eyes moist. That was why he felt his eyes involuntarily flutter open when he noticed a dark shadow blocking his sunlight. Looking up, Herakles propped himself up on the strength of his elbows. He expected it to be Sadiq or Kiku, with the former bringing a scowl and the latter brightening his mood. The grass made his exposed skin itch as he squinted up as to see who his visitor was.

"You know that you, like, won't tan if you lay like that, right?" An annoying-oh so annoying voice called out to him, the question obviously rhetorical, for intruder continued. "Though with your pale, pasty, nasty skin, maybe it'd, like, work."

Glaring up weakly, Herakles sat upright. "My skin isn't pasty. It's a good color…" _Why _was he arguing with a stranger? It was probably some punk tourist who didn't know who he was. That voice certainly _was _foreign…

"Yeah, for, like, some creepy albino!" An equally annoying laugh resounded throughout the immediate area. "If you, like, fall asleep, then you'll get all icky and burnt by the sun. I really, like, hate the sun, by the way. It's so _hot, _and it dries up everything, and it doesn't, like, do anything worthwhile to anyone."

Herakles felt his eyes narrow. How _dare _this tourist insult the bringer of life; the cousin to the waves and the embodiment of radiated life. The sun brought all that was good, not all that was bad. The sun was blocking a good view of the intrusive character with its rays of light and warmth, but he managed to pick out straight blonde hair and a somewhat tanned complexion, though there wasn't much difference between the two shades of his and the intruder's.

"Kindly shut up, would you?" Herakles half-growled, rising to stand before the blonde. They were approximately the same height, though the sun-hater was a slight bit taller than Herakles himself. This fact angered the brunette, as it made him feel weak and not to the same level as this…_man._ "The sun brings life, not death, as you so foolishly believe. Without the…solar energy it provides, you'd—"

"Okay, I'm, like, bored. You're a fre-_eak!_" The blonde rolled his eyes, mockingly checking his nails. "So, what do you, y'know, call yourself? I'm Feliks! Your country is, like, so pretty! You are the, like, personifi-whatever of this place, right?" His face was so eager and expectant; Herakles felt an overbearing desire to crush Feliks's dreams and idea. From what he gathered, when two personified nations met up, it nearly always resulted in sex, whether they were both male or no. And that was one fate he did _not _desire to have with this "Feliks".

"…No." Herakles put on a puzzled expression that would have made his mother proud. "I'm just a normal Greca. Why?" He then moved to a shocked facial set. "There are…people who represent countries? How…how does that work? Are they, you know…bigger and freak…ish, as you put it?"

Feliks was obviously disappointed. Because he could not have sexual relations with the country of Greece? Was this Feliks man another sex-obsessed man like Sadiq and so many others? Or had he really been looking for Greece for a genuine reason? Was something amiss with the rest of the world? Such a depressed face could not have been created because of a simple lack of sex…could it?

"Hey…Feliks?" Herakles could take this cruel act no more. He wasn't about to reveal his identity just yet, but perhaps he could be a slight bit kinder. "…Are you alright? I really…I'm sorry."

"No…I'm f-fine. Totally f-fine. Don't l-like…worry about me." Feliks managed to say between sobs, making the Greca feel even worse. "I'm P-Poland…the p-person who represents it a-and all… And, like, I heard Greece was way chill and nice…and, y'know…I t-totally gave out that people c-could be countries…" Feliks, well, _Poland_ sobbed still, wiping his red, puffy eyes, the whites of his eyes turning a very dark pink that rivaled the red of his skin beneath the eyeball and that laid above his cheeks.

Herakles sighed, feeling his skin crawl and bones quiver. Guilt rested on his shoulders, like he was Atlas and the regret of his decision to act around the emotionally fragile persona of Poland. Desiring to get this dreadful weight off of his slender, narrowed shoulders, Herakles Karpusi released a pent-up sigh to begin his confession. "Feliks, I'm…" A pause. How was he to go about this confession? "_I'm _Greece." He had decided perhaps speaking aloud and straight to the purpose would be the wisest course of action. It had always suited him well on other occasions, and this one with Feliks was no different. Feliks was just another scenario that needed to be played out. He was nobody special.

Feliks stared into the other's eyes, green locking on blue. Each found the other's eyes entrancing, albeit Herakles broke free from the spell before the other. It was only natural, after all. Such emerald eyes _were _beautiful, but this was a confession of identity; not of sexuality in the least.

"You _are _Greece?" Feliks obviously lit up at the confession. "Why didn't you, like, tell me? You let me break down and _cry _before you s-said anything!" Was that anger or happiness on Feliks's face? Truly, it was hard to tell. A combination of both, perhaps? Definitely likely, knowing the mood swings the blonde went through. In less than five minutes, Herakles had fallen victim to three or four emotions. How could anyone stand to be around such a nation? And a person, to boot. Herakles had to assume that such a nation as Poland, always ruptured by war and a fellow captive of Russia during the Communist era would be so foolish as to spill that secret of representing the Phoenix of Europe to everyone around him. After all, he had created a human name for himself, hadn't he? That proved he had _some _sense…didn't it? Or was that just—No. It took far too much energy to try and find a flaw in this plan. Feliks was too shallow-minded to think of something _too _extravagant and elaborate.

"I…I was worried all you'd want is sex from me, like everyone else does." Herakles halfheartedly replied, already regretting what he was saying. He could already see Feliks jumping on him—wait. Feliks seemed to…shy to do anything. Maybe he was safe this time. "But I see now that you're much too…ah, forget it." Even aloud, the words sounded wrong.

"Why would I, like, want to do anything like that?" Poland sounded…_offended _at Herakles's fear. Half of Herakles wanted to smack the other, and the other side was relieved. "Why would, like _anybody _want to do that nasty stuff with you? It's, like, way gross of you. You are _such _a, like, perverted _freak!_"

"Then why did you want to find me?" Though Feliks's words were harsh, Herakles refused to cry or show weakness. That would be like dying. He had the brain of an Athenian scholar, and the pride of a Spartan. "You obviously had _some _business with a 'freak' like me."

"Well," Feliks laughed, sort of checking his nails again. "I heard your country was, like, _gorgeous_, and I decided to check it out." He clucked his tongue against the roof of his mouth in an insanely aggravating fashion. "And I was sort of expecting a chill girl I could hang with. But you look and act, like, the opposite of what I expected. So, I'm, like, gonna go now. I lost interest again, so sad to report.

Spartan heart beating and pounding against solid ribs, Herakles straightened his back to rise to his full height. "Feliks. Do not think that just because I am not your immediate choice of company, I am not worth staying around for. Rather, I am quite the company to keep."

"Really?" Interest flared up in the phoenix's eyes. "Care to prove it to me? I'd, like, love to have fun for once!"

Biting back the desire to show this foolish man what happened to people who trespassed, Herakles shook his head. "You say nobody would ever want to do anything sexual with me, do you?" He had to emit a laugh; the time called for it. "As you wish. I will not do anything of that nature to you. Unless you want it."

Feliks thought for a moment, and then smiled. "I do, actually. I mean, because I'm, like, the best at deciding whether a country is good for things like that, and I've never…"

"We _have _met, Feliks." Herakles smiled one of his whimsical smiles he managed to create every once in a while. "When Ivan was the Soviet Union, for a time, I was there with you. But then I was saved. Remember?"

Yes. Vaguely, Feliks remembered the tired-looking, cat-loving brunette. The memories were shaky and clouded, but they were undoubtedly there for him to reflect upon and review. They had been…acquaintance. Not friends, but by no means enemies. Neutral in a world of sides and battles.

"…Right. I, like, remember you. Totally. Okay, a little bit, but I mean, we were kinda friends, right? Not really, but we were definitely better than _some._" As cliché as it sounded, Feliks felt remnants of the dreaded Soviet era come back to him, yet very few involved Herakles at all. It was like a whole new perspective had been opened up for the blonde-haired, green-eyed man. "Sorry. I, like, forgot about you. I got messed up during that war. As always. Everyone just loves me, I guess!" He chirped happily.

Herakles nodded, suppressing a yawn with great difficulty. This conversation was so very boring, but he couldn't do anything to stop that. "…I know. We all had it rough. I'm sorry for your losses."

"Hey, by the way." Feliks yawned loudly, as though he were _trying _to aggravate Herakles. "This is way boring. Wanna have sex?"

That broke Herakles in both mind and spirit. "_You _were saying how nobody would ever want to do anything like that, and now _you _want to—" He yelled, groaning as he did. "You're so aggravating!"

"Well I'm sorry, but, I mean, if you were more interesting and stuff, maybe I _would _be able to make up my mind! It's obviously _your _fault!" Herakles couldn't help but widen his eyes at that statement.

"It's _my _fault that you're—" Taking a deep breath, the Greca closed his widened eyes. "Alright. Do you really want to do this?"

Feliks nodded eagerly, as though this was how he passed the time. "Of course! I wouldn't have asked if I didn't! Are you slow or something? Jeez…"

The Greca nodded, pulling Feliks to the ground beside him. "…Since this is a favor, I'm leading this." However, the blonde simply giggled and assured Greece that he enjoyed being on the bottom, which puzzled Herakles as well as being the opposite of what had been presumed.

Far more eager than his brunette partner, Feliks slowly stripped away the clothing, each layer revealing pale skin that the two could share alike. The colors were so similar; both being a milky, faded tan color. It took longer for Feliks to pull away the clothing from Herakles, who had struggled and been deemed uncooperative. He preferred slow, romantic sex, as opposed to everyone else in the world who preferred fast, quick, easy sex that involved the leader leaving soon after, like a one night stand. Maybe he was just too old-fashioned for the new world. Yet, that was not a valid excuse, for his own mother had taken part in the hasty love-making. So perhaps his ideals for sexual relations did not belong anywhere, except for in movies or books.

"Why are you so shy?" Feliks asked, turning so they were lying on their sides, staring at one another. "Relax. You're in charge here. Be, like…" He searched for the word. "…Be commanding, but not crazy tyrant commanding. Just be sure of yourself…or something."

Nodding, Herakles cradled the blonde's face in his hands, smiling. Softly kissing the man, he closed his eyes, unable to stare at who he was kissing. The feel of those soft, silky hairs touching his hands; it was a wonderful feeling. As he broke the kiss, he remained touching the pale face and blonde hair, slowly opening his eyes.

That small, gentle kiss sent a fiery arrow down through his body, making him feel incredible. Pushing Feliks onto the ground on his back rather than his side, Herakles loomed over the taller of the two. Here they were, in _his _territory, where everyone could see them, but the two remained indifferent. This was _their _moment; their time to share this moment.

"You're not very fast when it comes to this, are you?" Feliks laughed, actually impressed by the Greca's sudden mood change. "Have you ever done this before?"

At that idea, Herakles had to sigh. "Yes, I have. I just prefer to keep my sexual activities calm and relaxed, unlike most of the world that I've seen thus far. It's like I love the idea of a person, not of how good they are in bed."

"Okay." Feliks proceeded to drag on the final syllable of the word far too long. "So then, like, continue. It's okay; I'm an _expert _in this field. You take it slow, and I'll, like, be patient with you and stuff. No big deal."

After an obvious pause, Herakles nodded. "…Alright. Just don't be too impatient. I'm new to this sort of thing." At this delayed response, Feliks nodded and lifted his shoulders into a shrug, which the speaker took as a positive answer.

Slowly, ever so slowly, Herakles lowered himself onto Feliks, feeling the warmth of the phoenix's blessedly warm flesh. It was so unlike every other partner he had had in the past. Feliks was warm and soft, and made him feel, in a word, incredible. After he was atop that flesh, he smiled and made his fingers dance along the milky tan there, moving down across his chest and arms. Each touch brought a solid, heated sensation that flowed through him, widening the smile and making him feel more inspired to continue the scene, like how a new day would inspire Socrates to pull forth more of his advanced mind into his words and writings of the mind and soul.

A nod from Feliks told him he could continue. With the same speed, Herakles proceeded to move inside the blonde without preparation of any sort of lubricant. It was more natural that way, and acted as a counter (at least in his head) for the unnatural idea of two males making love. Though he was drunken on the revelation that he would be in control for this round, Herakles felt tied down by no laws on nature. If he wanted to do this, who was Nature to stop him?

Yet, as good as the intention was, Feliks obviously wasn't on the same brain wavelength. He cried out in what seemed to be pain, yelping and squirming and being utterly horrible and uncooperative, perhaps more so than even himself, which, admittedly, was quite hard to accomplish.

"What is it? Whats…what's wrong?" Patiently, Herakles decided perhaps he should care a bit more for his partner's pleasure. After all, the activity had been created for dual pleasure, had it not? He most certainly was not a rapist, which meant that he was—why was he trying to talk himself into anything? Why was he trying to convince himself whether something was wrong or not? Whatever he was thinking and feeling was right, without a doubt.

"Haven't you, like ever done this before?" Feliks growled, rolling his eyes. "You need to, like, prep me with your fingers and stuff. Or at least put some lube or something on yourself! It's, like, torture otherwise!"

"I don't have anything like that…I'm sorry." Herakles admitted, feeling heat creep up on his cheekbones. What was he, some sort of girl from Kiku's manga? No. He was a man, and was ready to prove that to anyone. And maybe him proving that to himself wouldn't be a terrible idea.

"Fine. Just…hurry up." Feliks whined, closing her eyes tight, as to keep himself from staring into the eyes of Herakles. "I don't want this to last, like, too long. That's be lame. So just…hurry up, okay?"

Nodding as though Feliks could see the action, Herakles positioned himself in such a way that he could move in deeper, trying to get in as far as possible without causing too much pain to the blonde partner.

They kept on like for a while, with Herakles daring to go in deeper and Feliks whining and yelping at every thrust made. But what could be done? Since Feliks had been doomed a man and it was really unnatural for this to occur, there was no preparation that could be made.

Eons seemed to pass before Herakles managed to hit that delightful bundle of nerves known as the man's prostate. He always did describe it as the best organ of a man's body, and that opinion would stay until he was proven wrong.

Moans and gasps escaped from pink lips, Feliks opening his eyes to stare at Herakles, wrapping thin arms around the other's neck. "Maybe…this isn't so bad. Keep, like, hitting right there. It feels way good."

Nodding, Herakles did just that, feeling the blonde tighten and release with every thrust. It felt like paradise, but he needed to contain himself, for fear of hurting the blonde any more than necessary. Such a thing would be shameful.

First, Herakles released, spilling his seed within the blonde. It felt delightful; all too delightful and wonderful to be real. But now, he needed to bring Feliks over the edge. He wasn't so willing to ride out his orgasm as Feliks was left to suffer. After all, _Feliks _had been invaded. _Feliks _had been the one to suffer for such a long time. To return the favor, Herakles would stay here and attempt to pleasure Feliks until the both of them were lying there, side by side, overcome with the pleasure of sexual release, here in the grass and sunshine.

Pulling out of the blonde, Herakles proceeded to ghost his fingertips along that gorgeous flesh that appealed to him more than the one who the skin belonged to. If only the skin wore the person, rather than the other way around.

Moans continued to pour from the vocal chords of the man, his sentences so broken it was hard to decide whether they were meant to be heard or not. All Herakles knew was that Feliks was clinging to him for dear life, like the pleasure he was feeling would cause the end of his country unless he remained clinging to another.

Without so much as a touch to his member, Feliks came, releasing his own seed between the two of them. It was heated and fresh, which told Herakles many things about his partner. One, that he had had these sorts of relations before, and that he was a bit experienced in being dominated, since he had released without so much a touch to his nether regions.

"I'm, like, sleepy." Feliks yawned, pushing Herakles away and curling up in a ball in the grass. "Come sleep with me."

Nodding, Herakles took his place beside the blonde, their heads nearly touching. And there they remained, in the nude and solely for the eyes and arms of the sun and the caresses of the grasses.


End file.
